Power Play
by perper
Summary: Chapter 6 has been uploaded. Something in St. Canard is beginning to stir. It has all the symptoms of a full scale rebellion. Two teams rent apart, three unlikely teammates. Rating may go up with new chapters.
1. Prologue

Power Play

By perper

Prologue

"Quackerjack!"

It wasn't entirely his fault; mostly, but not entirely. Quackerjack, of course, couldn't possibly get this point across to the diminutive mallard that had grabbed him by the collar and was turning a very interesting shade of red. It never ceased to amaze him that no matter how many times he'd suffered sheer terror at the hands of Negaduck, he never became accustomed to the feeling. Negaduck had the talent of being able to literally scare people anew every time he became angry or just wanted something.

"I…It wasn't…But I-"

"Shut up you worthless clown!"

Quackerjack shot a pleading glance at the remaining three, who promptly looked away. Their desire to help their friend was outweighed by their fear of Negaduck.

At the bottom of the flight of stairs were the remains of a device. "That," Negaduck pulled Quackerjack into a headlock and spun around to face the debris, "was my ticket home. You broke it!" Negaduck went from firm to raving lunatic within seconds. He became even more terrifying as he suddenly smirked and lowered his voice. "What are _you_ going to do about it?" This was bad. No matter what the jester uttered he would be wrong. Doing the smartest thing he'd done all night, he stayed quiet and waited for Negaduck to answer himself.

"I thought so." Negaduck dropped Quackerjack and deliberated on the situation. "Megavolt, can you fix it?"

"I- I believe so." Megavolt stuttered.

"Get to it. At least someone around here is useful." Negaduck shot Quackerjack a death glare and lead the rest of the Fearsome Five down to collect the device. Quackerjack remained on his hands and knees at the top of the stairs; torn between jealousies, hatred, powerlessness, and insignificance.

- - - - - - -

"Dark, darling, how about dinner tonight?" Morgana put on a seductive tone to make her plea sound all the more inviting.

"Sorry Morg, I can't. Gosalyn came down with this horrible virus. Y'know, the one that's been going around. I'm really worried about her; she spent all morning throwing up. Plus, there's that string of arsons. Darkwing Duck is going to have his hands full." Drake answered, straining to keep the phone to his ear while he started the laundry.

"Oh, the poor dear. I hope she feels better soon." Morgana stopped and stayed quiet for a moment. With slight grief she said, "It's just that…we haven't seen each other as much lately. I miss you."

"I miss you too, sweetie. I promise we'll do something soon. I love you." Drake sighed.

"I love you too. Bye."

-

Perper says: Well, this is the beginning. I'm going to warn you here and now that the characters will be slightly out of character. The idea of this story is far-fetched as it is, but I must write it. This idea has been eating away at me for a while. Constructive criticism is welcome.


	2. Chapter 1: Striking a Match

Power Play

Chapter 1: Striking a Match

By perper

Gosalyn hacked and wheezed as she tried to sit up in bed. "Dad?" Drake entered the room with a bowl of soup and a bottle of cherry-red liquid. He put them on the table and felt her forehead. "Well, your fever seems to be almost gone. Maybe this will pass. C'mon, it's time to take your medicine." Gosalyn made a face, but didn't struggle, as she swallowed a small cup-full of the fluid.

"Do you feel hungry?" Drake straightened a few stray locks of her red hair.

"Not really." She coughed. With a look that said 'I wish I could do more', Drake hugged Gosalyn and then pulled her cover back up to her shoulders. "Get some rest, sweetheart." He glanced sorrowfully back at her once more before he turned out the light; she had already dozed off.

- - - - - - - -

People who are about to do bad things often loiter in dark alleys or condemned warehouses before conducting their ideas; at least, that's what modern entertainment tells us. Topheth saw no reason to break this tradition. The tall, well-built white wolf squatted in one such sinister alley and fingered the gold chain about his throat. His focused, violet eyes betrayed the fact that, unlike most other criminals, he had no plan. He was merely out and about, hoping that he would find something to do. Listening to Apollo drone on and on about his philosophies gave the wolf a terrible headache;he was happy to have gotten away

Topheth stood up and brushed off his baggy, maroon pants. He reached down to tie his shoelace just as a purple, duck shaped motorcycle screeched by and around a corner. As far as he knew, this town had no hero.

- - - - - - - -

Darkwing Duck couldn't concentrate tonight. He had dealt with raising a child, holding together a house and secret identity, and fighting a myriad of villains all at the same time. Tonight, though, it seemed that he was losing his grip on everything. These arsons had started a few weeks ago, but the criminal still eluded him. Whoever it was had to be some kind of master escapist or have a highly organized operation of some sort. Then Gosalyn had come down with something. The doctor's thought it was a new form of a stomach virus or a new strain of the flu. Either way, Drake had honestly thought Gosalyn was going to die. Thankfully, Launchpad was there to help take care of her. If all of this wasn't enough, he and Morgana hadn't seen each other in over a month. A WHOLE MONTH! He knew she still loved him, but he was afraid of what this strain was going to bring. To think that just before all of this he was considering proposing to her. Now he would have to repair the whole relationship before he even spared another thought to marriage.

So far the patrol was quiet. He stopped the motorcycle in an empty parking lot for a moment to clear his head. He took a few steps and then stood stunned in his path. A tower of smoke rose into the sky over the area where he had just been. How did he miss that?

- - - - - - - -

Topheth, for the first time in weeks, stood amidst the flames. There was no one to tell him to run or hide. He relished the suffocating heat and inhaled the smoke as though it were clean air. The annoying screams from the upper levels of the building had stopped now and he was sure that he could enjoy this moment without distraction.

He was sure of this until he saw, through a busted window, a short duck in a purple mask and gray fedora wandering close to the building. "Have no fear citizen. Darkwing Duck will save you!" The duck screamed to him.

Topheth was about to tell him not to bother but the oddly-costumed duck had already swung in through the window. He grabbed Topheth's wrist and pulled him from the inferno. "Obviously the flames disoriented you. You're safe now. No need to thank me." Darkwing couldn't help but allow his ego to shine through. "Is anyone else in the building?"

"They've already been burned to death. I heard it from downstairs." Darkwing didn't really know how to answer this unconcerned reply, and now suddenly thought that it was strange that not a hair on the shirtless chest of this wolf was even slightly singed. There were no signs of burns from the tips of his pointed ears to the soles of his black boots. He didn't cough or seem alarmed in the least. "Uhmm…," Darkwing tugged uncomfortably at his collar, "You didn't happen to see who did this, did you?"

"I did. It looked like a good building to burn, so I set it on fire." Topheth stared at the building with a carefree expression on his face.

Darkwing pulled out his gas gun, "Well, you're not very sharp are you? Suck ga—" Before he had time to finish, Topheth grabbed the mouth of the gun. The whole gun promptly melted.

"Okay, maybe not." DW backed away toward the Ratcatcher. Topheth waved his hands and each was consumed with a ball of flame. With a flick of his wrist, he fired searing torpedoes at the crime-fighter. Darkwing ducked behind the Ratcatcher and looked about for something to stop the fire. Quickly grabbing a spare wrench from the back of his motorcycle, DW darted for a nearby fire hydrant. Starting to sweat with anxiety, he tried to unscrew the side bolt- 'Where's the Liquidator when you need him?' Topheth had not let up his attack and, trying to stop the hero from opening the hydrant, launched a wall of flame. The maneuver failed; his flames were drowned out by a burst of water as Darkwing finally jerked the hydrant open.

Soaking wet, Topheth was suddenly hit in the face with the wrench. He reeled for a moment but shook it off. Darkwing wasn't sure if it was more stunning that he hadn't been hurt by the wrench or that he didn't even see it coming. He watched, slightly dumbfounded, as the wolf picked up the tool and looked at it. It was as if he couldn't understand why it had hit him. Without warning, he hurled it at Darkwing, but it faltered in his now slippery hand and smashed into the Ratcatcher. He turned and ran. Darkwing tried to pursue him but with his vehicle damaged, the chase was futile, and now, fire trucks were arriving.

- - - - - -

"You're sure he didn't have any powers?"

"If he did, he didn't use any. He threw a wrench at me and had this gun that looked like a toy."

"How could you let a powerless weakling disgrace you like that? It's appalling."

"I- I just wasn't ready for him. I'll get him next time."

"No worries, Topheth. If he doesn't have powers, he is no real threat. Come back to the apartment."

- - - - - - -

"I don't know what was with that guy. He was an idiot." Drake whined.

"Well, I'm sure you'll get him DW. By the way, Morgana called." Launchpad tried to give a reassuring smile.

"Oh, I don't want to deal with anyone right now. I'll call her later." Drake stood in place, still dazed from earlier.

"Are you okay, DW?"

Drake didn't answer.

To Be Continued…

- - -

Perper says: Thanks to my reviewers. I'm honored. Also, I'll have the installments out within a few days of one another. I want it to be worth reading and not just thrown together. Also, I refuse to give away plot points. Some of this is obvious; some of this isn't so obvious. Anyway, lots more to come. Thanks for reading, please review.


	3. Chapter 2: Toil and Trouble

Power Play

Chapter 2: Toil and Trouble

By perper

Quackerjack couldn't remember the last time that he had been in civilian clothing, and he wasn't enjoying it; the jeans and wifebeater- he'd refused to remove the mask- didn't do a thing for him. Then again, he wasn't about to destroy his jester outfit in this mess. Negaduck had assigned him the meaningless task of sorting and repairing a weapon stockpile so massive Quackerjack was sure that there would be a UN investigation sooner or later.

Despite the horrifying knowledge of how many different ways he could die that day, Quackerjack was kind of happy that he was making some headway. Another day and he might finish. And at least Negaduck wasn't…At that very moment the terrorizing mallard strolled in and looked around.

'_Speak of the devil!' _Quackerjack hid a his resentment as best as he could.

"Mmm-hmmm…" Negaduck took his time looking around and, therefore, making Quackerjack all the more apprehensive. Eventually he stopped, picked up a cross-bow, and deliberately broke it. Afterwards, he kicked at some neatly organized weaponry and then, putting his hand on Quackerjack's shoulder, said, "Looks like you won't be done too soon." Quackerjack wilted as Negaduck exited with a satisfied smirk.

"That'll keep that joker busy." Negaduck's beak fell into a scowl; slightly disturbed by his own preoccupation with the other powerless member of his team and then disturbed for being disturbed.

- - - - - - - - - -

Topheth sat on a crate; depressed. A pair of furry, charcoal gray hands slid across his shoulders and around his neck. "I heard you had a bad day," Purred the female cat that stood behind him. She rubbed their cheeks together; her whiskers tickling his muzzle. Slinking around in front of him, she sat down on his lap. "There was this guy," Topheth ran his fingers though her mid-length, navy hair, "He hit me with a wrench."

"A wrench?"

"Yeah. After the water."

"Poor sweetie."

"Get. A. Room." They were joined by a brown canine mutt. Though nicely built, he was small compared to Topheth, but then again, who wasn't? "Okay," he began, "I'll need both of you soon. I've already started gathering some of our kind. I knew that St. Canard was a hot spot for the supers but I had no idea that there were so many here. The numbers seem to be growing too."

"Don't forget Duckberg. They have an interesting- albeit small- super community. Also, I already sent out a mutated virus into the city. Most of those with inferior DNA will fair badly." The cat purred.

"I've noticed. Good work, Plague. As for your earlier experience, Topheth, I'm starting to believe that some of the weaklings and non-supers have had to learn to deal with the supers here. I'm sure against more than one of us, he would fail."

Topheth still looked rather downhearted. The dog gazed at him with a glassy stare for a moment. "Apollo! You said you wouldn't use that on us!" Plague wrapped her arms around Topheth's head and pulled his face to look at hers. "You'll get him, baby." She was a more effective encouragement.

"Whatever. Anyway, make sure you're ready. We have to persuade a few misguided ones toward our cause," Apollo paused. "Do you hear it? The shackles are breaking…"

- - - - - - - - - - - -

"It's hard for me to even be here! Gos is sick and poor LP needs a break!" Darkwing was failing in an attempt to be understanding. "Of course you'd try to guilt trip me on this!" So was Morgana.

Watching from a distance was an odd-looking grey duck. He was tall, gaunt- almost a dead appearance, really- and had short, sleek locks of jet-black hair. He wore a white lab coat and complimentary black gloves. All of this wasn't what gave him an air of peculiarity though. It was the fact that he was perpetually smiling. Not just any smile but a smile that said he was plotting, satisfied, and generally knew all sorts of things that you didn't. "Now, now…" he calmly made a mock attempt at calming the quarrelling lovers.

"You stay out of this, Tybalt!" Morgana snapped. "Dark, you've been too busy for me for a long time. Gosalyn getting sick is just a convenient excuse. You're married to crime-fighting; I'm just your mistress!"

"What do you want me to do?" Dark had meant the question to be rhetorical. Morgana; however, answered, "Make a choice."

"What!"

"The crime-fighting goes or I go."

"No. I'm not choosing. That's not fair, Morg!"

"Fine. I'll choose for you. We're through."

Darkwing didn't know what to do. Everything began to blur and all he could see was Morgana pointing at the door with her face turned away in disgust. She didn't even seem to be crying. He made a move to plead with her but she smacked him and ran from the room.

As Darkwing left, he felt a certain chill running through him. Was it just him or had the smile on Tybalt's face grown bigger?

- - - - - - - - - -

"Finished? Well aren't we a hard worker." Negaduck was feeling better and, according to the laws of nature, everyone else was going to feel horrible. "Hmmmm….I think my attack dogs need a walk, I need some shopping done, and you can help Megavolt fix the mess _you_ made." Quackerjack gritted his teeth, visibly. "Ah ah ah, we wouldn't want any of our friends to be hurt, would we?" Negaduck held up the confiscated Mr. Bananabrain and a pair of scissors. Quackerjack went back to looking pitiful and scuttled off to do the work.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

"Dad, are you okay?"

Which was harder, managing a city and a disgruntled girlfriend or managing a city and a broken heart?

To Be Continued…

Perper says: A big thank you goes out to my reviewers and all those who patiently waited for this. Sorry about the wait. As for **Gosalyn**, she won't be getting better for a while and I haven't decided her fate yet. It'll all play together, I promise. In other news, I hate introducing my characters. It's annoying to write but I hope you enjoy reading it. I complain because I'm not exactly skilled at it. If you have any suggestions or ideas, I'd love to hear it. Thanks.


	4. Chapter 3: Serpent in the Garden

Power Play

Chapter 3: Serpent in the Garden

By perper

Bushroot was bored. He stared blankly out of a window; the sun wasn't out today. In the background were Megavolt and Quackerjack bickering over Negaduck's treasured machine. He had to admit that it had been mildly amusing to listen at first- after all, they fought like lovers- but it got old fast. After a moment of pondering whether a conversation with the Liquidator would be worth the walk to the next room, Reggie sighed, put his head in his leafy hands, and resigned himself to the window.

"That isn't right." Megavolt had momentarily relinquished command of the machine to Quackerjack.

"You didn't build it. We don't even know what it does, Sparky." Quackerjack prodded a circuit board with a small screwdriver.

"Ooooo! Don't call me that! Anyway, I do know electronics and – Oh my god! Don't do that!" The warning came too late and Quackerjack suddenly found himself extra crispy.

"Well," he coughed up a cloud of smoke, "we can rule that out." Megavolt snatched the screwdriver and shoved Quackerjack out of the way. "Awww, come on Megs. Let me help." Quackerjack whined. "This isn't playtime. Go do something else." Megavolt sighed.

Reggie had taken note of that last bit of conversation and expected Quackerjack to continue his pestering or walk off playfully offended and find a toy. Bushroot knitted his brow and rose in surprise as neither happened. Quackerjack seemed unable to speak and then looked down at the floor. His hands went limp by his sides and he trudged out of the room. He was actually hurt.

Until that moment, Reggie had never seen someone look five years old and fifty years old at the same time and he wondered if Quackerjack's age was catching up to him.

"Quacky, hand me that red wire." Megavolt mumbled.

Bushroot looked at him oddly.

"Hey, where did he go?"

- - - - - - - - - - - -

"Watch them closely."

"What if the ubermensch fight for the weaklings?"

"I can take care of them. Be sure to only go after those not like us unless you're defending yourself."

"No funny stuff; you promised."

In the darkness, Apollo grinned.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Okay. If _anyone_ screws this up," Negaduck eyed Quackerjack viciously, "all four of you will pay!"

"You're the one that's going to pay, Negaduck!" Said mallard wasn't sure if he preferred Darkwing's annoying introductions over Gizmoduck's goody-goody attitude. Ah well, it didn't matter, he could kill them both and then not have to decide, "Don't you people ever take a vacation?"

Darkwing stood behind the rest of the Justice Ducks- Morgana included- covering his eyes and wishing that they would go home. Then again, LP would need their help once he got a hold of him for calling them.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I don't think they even know what they're fighting over." Plague surveyed the battle that had ensued below. She squinted and then pointed a finger in Gizmoduck's direction, "Does he count? I mean technically those are superpowers."

"He uses a machine to do everything, without it he's nothing. Even the rat isn't that pathetic. We can't allow such…pollution to enter our master race." Apollo reasoned, slightly disgusted.

"Well?"

"I know, I know. Topheth, bring down the house."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Darkwing and Negaduck were conveniently taking their quarrel away from the others, and Negaduck was winning.

"A little off today, aren't we?" Negaduck grinned and swiped a dagger inches from Darkwing's stomach. Darkwing didn't reply, just being within sight of Morgana was spelling out a death sentence for him. Negaduck gritted his teeth: Darkwing could _easily_ be killed and that would take all the joy out of the victory. Of course, Negaduck's natural reaction to frustration is violence and, acting on rage, he jabbed the knife wildly; this only served to worsen the situation on both sides.

Soon enough, though, the whole group was scattered; an explosion of flame erupted in the middle of the fighting. Negaduck and Darkwing suddenly forgot who they were and hugged each other out of fear while the rest scrambled about like ants that had been stepped on. Topheth stood dead center of the flames, looking around calmly.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Reggie ran as fast as he could until he knew for sure that not a single tongue of fire could reach him; he found himself several blocks from the glowing destruction. Panting, he rested against a brick wall.

"Hi there." Plague hung upside down from a ladder that was attached to the building.

"Aaaahhhh!" Bushroot screamed, covered his face and moved into a standing fetal position.

"Oh, sorry."

"Uhhhmmm…that's okay. I'm just jumpy."

"I'm Plague."

"That's a weird name."

"…and Bushroot isn't?"

"Touché. Hey, wait! How did you know my name?"

"A lot of people know your name. Come on, there's someone I'd like you too meet."

- - - - - - - - - - -

"And what about that clown? Don't you grow weary of that incessant whining? Not to mention that he's bossy." Apollo circled Megavolt, who had found himself in a nearby building seeking shelter.

"Well…" Megavolt had the strangest feeling, he just couldn't argue with this stranger.

"Seriously, should someone of your intellect be bothered with dolls and tea parties?"

While Megavolt did enjoy the occasional playtime, the more he thought about it, the angrier he became. He couldn't deny that QJ was a constant annoyance, and now that it had been brought up he wondered what purpose Quackerjack actually served in the group.

"I mean really," Apollo had glazed eyes but carried a demeanor of authority and reason, "why does your leader keep him around? Oh, I forgot, your leader doesn't have any powers. He's just trying to keep all of you under." Megavolt looked as if he wanted to agree but couldn't.

"Listen. Come with me and we'll discuss this some more later." Megavolt followed.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Gizmoduck seemed to be the only one who hadn't ran like a coward from the explosion and was making a futile attempt to put out the fire.

"Those…those cads!" Despite his effort, the flames spread.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"You let that weakling treat you like that? Morgana, you're a goddess. You deserve better." It was harsh, but Morgana couldn't help but feel that Plague understood.

- - - - - -

"The ocean is full of potential. You can't let these dry-landers destroy everything you stand for."

Neptunia grinned.

- - - - - -

"It's a limited-time offer. Think of all the benefits you gain by throwing out your old, obsolete boss and supporting our cause."

The Liquidator had never been able to resist a bargain.

- - - - - -

"Will Mr. Darkwing be there?" Stegmutt looked at Apollo with the best I'm-not-so-easily-duped face he could muster.

"Well no, but you will get this shiny nickel." Apollo held out the coin.

"…Okay!" Stegmutt clapped his hands.

Apollo turned to see Topheth, "You promised me that nickel!"

To Be Continued…

Perper says: That was a bit long but, it's actually a lot shorter than I had originally planned. Anyway, not much to say here but the main plot is beginning.


	5. Chapter 4: Broken Shackles

Power Play

Chapter 4: Broken Shackles

By perper

The last thing Negaduck remembered was a massive explosion of flame and grabbing Darkwing out of terror. As far as he was concerned, the latter never happened. Whatever had happened afterwards was a blur, and he awoke, hours later, to find himself in a dark warehouse and Darkwing gone.

He stood and brushed off his clothes. There was enough moonlight for a dim illumination of the deserted storeroom. As he was straightening his scarlet fedora, he noticed a little figure sitting quietly on a nearby crate.

"Well, of all people to watch over me. I'm touched, Quackerjack." Negaduck rolled his eyes. "Go find your teammates and then you idiots can explain to me just what happened."

"Th-They aren't coming back." Quackerjack got off the crate and stumbled over to Negaduck. Now that he was in the direct light of the moon, the remnants of the earlier battle could be seen. His outfit was torn in places and charred and his shirt was missing; his beak and bandaged left shoulder were bleeding. He fell and reached out to grab Negaduck's arm- the feathers of his fingers had been singed- but Negaduck pulled away.

"What are you talking about?" Negaduck kept a distance between them with an abusive scowl but sensed that he had missed something, something very important. "He took them. They followed him." Quackerjack gasped for air as he spoke. As it had occurred to Bushroot, so it occurred to Negaduck: something was wrong with Quackerjack; despite the mask his age showed and his manner had changed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"You really shouldn't be here, Honk." Gosalyn sat up in bed and her smile betrayed her remark.

"What are friends for? I've been analyzing your symptoms but I can't come to a conclusion as to the nature of the illness. It seems to be a mutation of an old disease but every time I think I might have the answer, the strain exhibits more abnormal behavior." Honker showed her a few diagrams from his work.

"That's alright, Honker. I'm sure it'll go away eventually." Gosalyn's words were strained.

"Honker, your mom doesn't want you out too late." Launchpad poked his head in the room, a phone against his ear.

"Well, she's gotten over the fever…I think."

"…"

"Do you think that's a good idea?"

"…"

"Well, you probably know more than I do about these kinda things. Okay."

He pressed a button and then put the phone down, "Binki had a great idea."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Darkwing rested for a moment against a birdbath in a yard two streets over from where he lived. His motorcycle had been trashed- again!- by that fire-spouting wolf and he was forced to walk to safety.

He slowly remembered some of the events that took place. Negaduck had grabbed him after the explosion and fainted from smoke inhalation a few minutes later. He had really, really wanted to leave Negaduck there. It would have served him right, but he couldn't go against his just ideas. He pulled Negaduck out of the way and then tried to thwart the more immediate threat of Topheth. After a few moments he lost his second gas gun.

Others started coming out from nowhere and a blinding wave of smoke caught Darkwing off guard. He coughed and then crawled out on hands and knees. Topheth and the others that had joined him were gone. Further searching led to nothing but discovering his secret hide-out on Audubon Bay Bridge in smoking shambles.

A half an hour later had found Darkwing lugging Negaduck around on his back. Finally he found what looked to be a thoroughly deserted warehouse where he could rest. He put Negaduck down and then sat on the floor.

A familiar scream pierced the air. Darkwing got up in time to see Quackerjack trip around the corner and land face down. His clothing was torn and burned. A thick, green vine followed him and managed to grab his shirt before he got away. Quackerjack struggled until a bolt of electricity that had followed along the vine struck him and he screamed.

When the electricity had stopped, he renewed his struggle and slipped out of his shirt. Darkwing didn't have time to help him. In less than a second the vine had found Quackerjack again, and grabbing his ankle, it grew out an appendage that was razor sharp. Darkwing closed his eyes as Quackerjack was run through.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Darkwing had started to walk again. His thoughts returned to his destroyed lair. Someone had told whoever was doing this where his hideout was.

But…

No. They wouldn't.

His walk turned into a run.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Darkwing picked me up and used my shirt to bandage my shoulder. I was lucky they moved on without making sure I was dead. Their eyes…like I told you, it was like they were zombies." Quackerjack finished his story.

Negaduck was mute but had an angry expression. "So they just left me by the wayside," he finally muttered.

Slowly, Negaduck looked around and then walked away.

"Where are you going?" Quackerjack followed.

"Wherever I want! Get lost!"

"Megavolt abandoned me…they all abandoned me. Who else am I supposed to stay with?"

"Listen, Quacker_jerk_! If they left, then this team is dissolved. You can go back to being the same worthless, schmuck you were before I made the team. Got it?"

Quackerjack grew angry, huffed, and, clenching his fists, stormed off in the opposite direction. Thinking of a new strategy, Negaduck walked alone.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Gizmoduck was sure that he had just seen an angry, shirtless Quackerjack walk past him, but he was distracted the next second when he saw smoke pouring from Darkwing's hideout on the bridge. "Those cads! I have to find Wingy!" He turned and found himself alone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Once upon a time, on a lovely little street called Avian Way in the suburbs of St. Canard, there stood a quaint little house under the number 537. Beside this house was another charming house. The residents of the latter were disliked by the owner of the former but he always knew he could trust them.

The Muddlefoots would always be there for him. Gosalyn and Launchpad would always be there when he came home.

But that was once upon a time. Now there was nothing there but rubble and ruin. Both houses were completely destroyed and, he supposed, so were their inhabitants. Darkwing stood speechless on the sidewalk by his smashed mailbox. At his foot was a rock with a paper folded under it. When he found the strength to move, Darkwing picked up the paper and unfolded it.

There are few things that can break a champion of justice. Darkwing had seen all sorts of horrors and faced seemingly insurmountable obstacles, but never had he felt this way before. Any chance for forgiveness and closure dissipated immediately. His sense of justice melted away under the heat of hatred but his heart turned to ice. In that moment, he fancied that he wasn't as different from Negaduck as he previously believed.

On the paper was the impression of a kiss in the distinct color of Morgana's lipstick.

To Be Continued…

Perper says: So it begins.

p.s. Thanks again to my reviewers.


	6. Chapter 5: Starting Over

Power Play

Chapter 5: Starting Over

By perper

Darkwing trudged through the street. It had started to rain and he was soaked to the bone but that didn't matter. None of them mattered anymore. Especially her!

Anger is a typical part of suffering and loss, and so was this building well of sorrow that was vying with wrath for a place in his heart. Morgana's space had, at least for the moment, been rendered vacant and handed over on a first-come-first-serve basis. There was no one left to love. His family was gone; murdered by someone he thought he could trust. Was there a reason to protect this city? Did he stand a chance against these new adversaries?

Of all the times he needed the Justice Ducks, this was the most urgent. Yet, they were nowhere to be found and, if they had followed Morgana, they weren't on his side anymore.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Negaduck sat on a stiff bed in a bland room in a generic-looking hotel. He wasn't about to go near his hideout with all of these new threats. He wasn't scared, but he wasn't stupid. Taking his time would allow for a proper strike.

Whether or not to form a new team was still undecided. It definitely had advantages, but he didn't want to go through this experience again (not to mention that he'd probably lost a few years from his lifespan trying to keep the original idiots in line.)

If he went against this zombie-machine that Quackerjack was babbling about, then he might need help. But, if he used the correct explosives and distractions, he could probably pull it off alone and not even need to be near the target.

He fell back and rolled over onto his stomach. Feeling a slight discomfort, he pushed himself up and pulled Mr. Bananabrain from his coat; he'd forgotten to leave it behind.

"Stupid doll…" Negaduck tossed the toy into a nearby trashcan. He didn't even remember why he'd invited Quackerjack to be a part of the team anyway. Shouldn't he have known that they would clash too much?

Negaduck grabbed an umbrella and a black trench coat and prepared to leave. He needed to do some weapon shopping and clear his head. But the question still stuck and it was getting on his nerves.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Quackerjack's knees cracked as he stood. He finally felt well enough to walk after sleeping off the pain of his injuries; storming down the street had taken more out of him than he thought.

What was he going to do? He had no playmates; all of his friends had abandoned him. Some friends…Quackerjack felt uneasy. He shouldn't be thinking this way. His knees shouldn't be cracking.

He'd known it for so long, even though he didn't want it to be true: he was getting old. Past-middle-aged old. Old old. He didn't want to be old. He wanted to play. But, suddenly he was tired and depressed.

In the offing he saw a purple-clad duck walking in the rain.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

For a moment, Quackerjack actually had the heart to silently respect Darkwing; he was the one that had helped him and the masked mallard looked horrible. But that was only for a moment.

"Well, look who's here. How goes the day-saving?" Quackerjack had a mixed mood but it made him happy to be annoying and villainous.

"…" The jester was fortunate to receive even a look from the fallen hero, but this only brought cheerful persistence. "What's the matter? Psycho got your tongue? Cape in a twist? Girlfriend cast another pudding spell?"

As he pestered Darkwing, Quackerjack bounced behind him, reached around and pulled the sides of his cheeks up into a goofy smile, but that last comment was met with violence. Darkwing jerked his face forward to release himself and then jabbed his elbow into the fool's stomach.

Rather than returning the blow, Quackerjack coughed and then said, "Touchy, aren't we? Don't you have other fish to fry?"

"Leave me alone."

"But that wouldn't be fun."

"Don't you and your electric pal have light bulbs and teddy bears to liberate?"

"…" Quackerjack fell back into his angry mood. Noting the rancor that suddenly overtook his playful rival, Darkwing grinned meanly. The victory only lasted so long, though, and Darkwing again sank into disillusionment.

Darkwing turned and slowly walked on, leaving Quackerjack to fume by himself. This however didn't sit well with said clown and soon he was following Darkwing at a distance. It wasn't as if he had anything else to do.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Negaduck felt good. There was nothing better than treating yourself to brand new weapons of mass destruction. Oh wait, yes there was- using them on orphans and kittens.

Of course, plotting was half the fun. Or it was usually. As if the justice dorks weren't bad enough, a brand new idiot had to walk into town and challenge his authority as future-evil-ruler-of-St. Canard.

There was more than one. It would be best to have a team, but who was left? The ones he had chosen were the most promising while still controllable. Steelbeak was too independent and Taurus Bulba was dead. Random thugs had no creativity- which could be good but only for so much. Most of the other cons were total jokes and a thousand times more annoying than that frustrating jester.

Speaking of whom, if he was right then the original team was irretrievable. Megavolt's power and genius were being put to use by his enemy, Bushroot's control of the entire plant kingdom as well as obedient attitude were now against him, and the same went for the Liquidator's command of water and keen sense for crime.

He wasn't safe anywhere now. If this new guy knew anything about him or where he was then he had electricity, mother earth, water, and even fire to use against him. Who knows what else?

Negaduck needed to launch a crippling attack. If he could stop them before they could get to him, he could turn the whole situation around on this intruder.

An evil grimace slid across Negaduck's beak, the fun was returning.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

"Mommy? Where are you?" A brown bear cub paced laboriously about the sidewalk. Fretting this way and that, he eventually noticed Darkwing downheartedly pulling himself along. "Mister, have you seen my mommy?"

"…No…" Darkwing sighed and tried to evade the child.

"Please help me, Mister."

"I can't, little boy."

"But I can't find her!"

"I'm sorry…I have to go."

"Awww, giving in so easily Dark?" Quackerjack cruelly mocked from behind. Darkwing winced at the nickname; Morgana had called him that.

"Go away, puffy-pants." Dark finally retorted.

"But what about Mommy?" The boy broke in between them.

"Yea, what about mommy?" Quackerjack laughed.

"Please! Please help! There isn't anyone else." Darkwing stopped and looked directly at the boy. There wasn't anyone else. No one else to thwart evil. No one to find mommies. No one to save families from being destroyed by psycho ex-girlfriends. He was all that was left.

For Gos. He would defeat this enemy for Gosalyn, and for LP and maybe for the Muddlefoots too. They wouldn't go without being avenged.

"…What does she look like?" He finally gathered the courage to take the first step back into action.

"She's really pretty." The little boy replied.

Despite that the description wouldn't help much, Darkwing humored the child and, taking his hand, began to walk around the area.

It wasn't long before he heard the sound of a woman crying desperately, "Ursinae, where are you?"

"This way."

Two blocks away from where he had been, Darkwing reunited the boy with his mother.

"Thank you," the woman cried while hugging her son and Darkwing, "you're a true hero."

It had been simple. No bombs, no threat against the city, no lives in danger; just a boy looking for his mother, but it brought back the feeling of what it meant to help someone in need.

"Nice job..." Quackerjack rolled his eyes.

Darkwing didn't flinch, "Thanks, Quacky." He focused on the wound in Quackerjack's shoulder and then grimaced, "You up for a little revenge?"

- - - - - - -

To Be Continued…

perper says: bows Sorry for the delay. The original outline seemed to piece together so well, but the details (especially in characterization) were unbelievably hard to work out. My writer's block and depression haven't helped either.

Please accept my sincerest apologies for not updating sooner. Thank you for your patience. I will try my best to have the other chapters out sooner.


	7. Chapter 6: Internal Struggles

Power Play

Chapter 6: Internal Struggles

By perper

There was something Megavolt should remember. Several things, actually, and he couldn't remember any of them. It was almost there. But for the past six hours, no matter how he tried, he couldn't remember. He just knew that it was something important.

"Do you know?" He asked a bulb in the overhead light.

…

"Geez, I was just asking. You're overworked; let me help you." He stood on a simple wooden chair and unscrewed the light bulb. "Now, isn't that better?"

"And I thought we had issues." Plague shook her head at the amusing display.

"He's obviously suffered trauma from those pathetic weaklings. Anyway, it's his gift. He is a god." Apollo reveled in Megavolt's insanity.

"A very disturbed god."

"Think what you like, Plague. You'll see; he- all of us, really- will taste glory even if it means dealing with madness."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"You will not scream, do you understand?" Darkwing, keeping his voice in a whisper, gave Quackerjack a raised eyebrow.

"What about your fancy smoke?" Quackerjack grinned widely.

"Nothing! It has to surprise them! Not a peep! No playtime, no bananabrain, and no laughing!"

"Awww, you always ruin the fun…"

"Would you just do what I tell you! Now go!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Negaduck was very angry. So far today had not worked out as it should have. And it was getting worse. Much, much worse.

His stomach was churning and he leaned over the toilet seat just in time for vomit to violently eject from his mouth.

"How long are you going to be in there?" His goody-goody doppelganger peeked into the dim bathroom.

"As long as I want!"

"…"

"What!"

Darkwing remained aloof while shuffling things around in the cabinets above the sink. Not finding what he was looking for, he left. Negaduck growled and eyed him the whole way.

"He's still not cooperating?" Quackerjack asked.

"No, and there isn't any more lotion or anything."

Quackerjack sighed and gently rubbed a burnt patch on his arm. Darkwing, the only one to come out of their earlier foray without a serious problem, sat down on a couch in their make-shift hideaway. Without any effort his thoughts drifted to other places.

_Gosalyn…I couldn't protect you._

He had tried to exact vengeance upon those responsible- those manipulative, super-powered freaks- but failed. And now he was stuck hiding with two of his worst enemies. Quackerjack was suffering from several burns as a result of the encounter with the pyro- wolf.

At first he didn't even know Negaduck was there- ha! Great minds do think alike- until that cat girl grabbed his twin's wrist and her eyes glowed an all-too-familiar green. Negaduck had been sick on his stomach ever since.

_Green eyes. Morgana. How could you?_

"You have a fight with your girlfriend?" Despite its quiet bluntness, Quackerjack's question derailed his train of thought completely.

"What?"

"Your girlfriend, she fought against you."

"How do you know-?"

"Like it isn't obvious." Negaduck broke in the conversation, coughing a bit.

"Oooohhh. All better?" Quackerjack asked.

Negaduck just gave him a menacing glare and the clown returned to the awkward, melancholy silence he was in before.

"She hangs over you more than any of those other Justice Dweeb pals of yours. Of course, the pickings are rather slim in that group."

Darkwing opened his mouth to come back with a snide retort but thought better of it upon realizing that Negs had a point, excluding himself of course.

"So we're stuck. Got any brilliant ideas?" Negaduck was being sarcastic but Darkwing actually zoned out in contemplation of their situation.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Looks like Bushroot has a girlfriend." The Liquidator whispered- as best a creature entirely made of water could whisper anyway- into Megavolt's ear.

"Hmm?" Liquidator frowned as he realized that he hadn't got his electric companion's attention.

"So you did an experiment on yourself? Isn't that dangerous?" Plague knew that science fanatics sometimes did weird things but didn't ever think that she would meet such a well-adjusted one.

Bushroot shrugged, "It was important to me. I didn't think it would turn out this way, but I get a lot of nice benefits from it."

Over in the opposite corner, hidden by a shadow, Topheth watched the two talking and with every word that passed either's lips he became angrier. Plague would say he was being a baby but he wasn't about to be replaced by a walking flower.

"I…I remember bells." Megavolt looked up at the Liquidator with an expression looking for affirmation.

The Liquidator stared at him for a moment, "Bells?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Quackerjack looked in a mirror checking his face for any burns. His vanity was getting the better of him. It was fortunate he had a private room where he could take off his mask. It was on the bed-still looking vaguely comical even without its wearer. Or, it had been on the bed. Out of the corner of his eye, Quackerjack saw the reflection of something moving. He spun around quickly and found Negaduck toying with his mask.

At this point, Quackerjack was embarrassed and his cheeks were turning as red as his hair. He gathered what strength he had and said sternly, "Give that to me."

Negaduck had never heard his subordinate be so firm, so commanding, so much like him really- he didn't think that the jester was even capable of it. It was probably because the mask was not on his face but Negaduck suddenly realized how much older Quackerjack was. Instead of causing anger, a smile crept up on Negaduck's face and he indulged an urge to push Quackerjack to see how far he would go. Still, grinning he replied, "You think you can command me, you pathetic idiot?"

"Give me my mask." This time his voice was lower, and he growled the words. Negaduck's demented smile only got bigger.

"As I recall, you are still indebted to me."

"You said yourself that the team was gone and that you didn't want me around. I don't owe you anything."

"Yea, I lose my temper like that. It still doesn't mean I'm not going to make you obey my every whim."

Tired of someone actually looking at his real face and mocking him, Quackerjack lunged for his mask. Negaduck kicked the shoulder where Quackerjack had been wounded. The now serious joker reeled backward and gasped from the pain.

Negaduck, still wanting to push Quackerjack's limits, slowly walked up to him and grabbed a burned arm. Quackerjack whimpered at the pain but still tried to keep a threatening look on his face. Within a few moments though, his fear overtook him and he looked away in defeat.

"I thought so." Negaduck shoved the mask into his other hand and then let go of his arm.

"I really hate to interrupt you two, but…" Darkwing had walked in just moments ago and was finally acknowledged with a grunt from Negaduck, "What do _you_ want?"

"I was thinking about a way to beat our common enemy. I think I may have a way to give us an advantage."

"Uhmm...How do you know you can trust us?" Quackerjack asked, eager for any chance to distract Negaduck.

"I don't really. But we all have the same problem and we know what happens when we face these guys apart. It would be easiest on everyone if we worked together until this is over."

Negaduck momentarily opposed but remembered the vomiting. It could work out to his advantage; after all, Darkwing's guard would be let down. He could easily kill him along with the supers. Hiding a grin he agreed and, since he had lost the earlier struggle for dominance, Quackerjack wasn't given a choice (at least not by Negaduck).

"Okay, what's this great plan?"

To Be Continued…


End file.
